Between the Nights and Days
by TheAllTimeLow
Summary: SEQUEL to "Break Your 'Lil Heart"  When Jack tries to commit suicide, Alex is left to drown in the thoughts of what he would do without his best friend. Only time will tell what happens.. Rated M for future smut.
1. Losing Grip

_Hello readers! _

_This is the sequel to "Break Your 'Lil Heart", which can be found on my main page._

_ I hope you'll like it and I hope you'll continue reading and reviewing._

_Much love.  
_

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**Chapter One - **_Alex's Point of View_

"Goodbye, Alex," he had whispered.

_Goodbye._

I drummed my fingers anxiously against the steering wheel as I sat in my driveway, torn between following my heart and following my head. My head insisted that I was merely making something out of nothing, and that it meant nothing that Jack had said "goodbye" instead of "I'll see you later" or something like that. But my heart... my heart was racing with the panic and fear that had entered it since I got into my car and drove away. My heart was screaming, begging for me to go back and make sure he was okay. My heart felt like it was about to jump through my ribcage and strangle me until I agreed to drive back and check on Jack.

My heart won.

In the minutes it had taken me to decide that something was wrong and that I was going to go back, my hands had become sweaty and shaky. I fumbled with keys for a moment before taking a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Each breath felt like wasted time - like each second that Jack wasn't in my sight was another second something could be happening to him. With careful effort I shoved the key into the ignition and backed out of the driveway barely before the engine had come to life.

_What if I'm too late, What if I'm too late..._

Those words kept circling around in my head like a nightmare stuck on repeat.

I didn't know exactly what it was that I _could_ be late for, but I had a gut feelings that there _was_ something. If I knew Jack at all -and I was willing to bet my life that I did- he hadn't been acting like himself tonight. Something was wrong, and I had to find out whatever it was. And, if I could, fix it. I parked my car in the same place that it had been only a little while ago and ran to the step where I had last seen him. My fist pounded frantically on the door. No answer. Not even a sound. My heart was racing, thumping so loudly that it echoed in my ear like a cannon firing. Thump, thump, thump, thump. I knocked again, but the house remained silent. A sense of dread rushed through me as I burst through the door, and, following some unknown instinct, headed straight for the stairs.

When I saw the bright bathroom light pouring in through his room, dancing off the shattered pieces of mirror on his floor, I knew that something was wrong. And as I slowly stepped past the broken glass and rounded the corner my world seemed to collapse in upon itself. Part of me realized what he had done as soon as I saw him; spread eagle on the bathroom floor, unresponsive, and unmoving. Though, it wasn't the sensible, logical part of me. I fell to my knees at his side, grabbing his hand and shaking it frantically.

It felt cold in my own.

Dead.

"Jack? JACK! Jack, wake up! Jack, please!"

I shook him more fiercely, as if he would just jump up at any moment, smile his cocky smirk, and tell me how bad he tricked me - how stupid I was for believing it all, and that now we needed to go shopping for a new mirror. But he didn't. He just lay there, until I saw the pill bottle. It had rolled slightly away from his limp hand, and even before I had snatched it from the ground, I knew it would be empty. The conformation of my fears hit me like an icy punch to the face. It took my breath away and left me frozen, shock stripping me of my ability to move or even scream. I sat there, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and full of fear. He couldn't be gone, he couldn't. This was Jack who we were talking about. Jack Barakat; my best friend, my bushy-eyebrowed enemy, my partner in crime, my love. He had said forever.

Forever wasn't over yet.

_But it will be over if you don't get your ass in gear!_ My conscious screamed at me.

My limbs seemed to thaw then and I flew into action. At the time, everything seemed to be going in slow motion. I couldn't seem to get to the phone as quickly as I wanted to, or dial 911 as fast as I knew my fingers could. The operator asked too many questions, and each question felt like it took a lifetime to ask. All I could think was how each second could be the second that pushed him over the edge between life and death, and their only priority should be sending an ambulance over immediately.

I remember holding his limp hand until the ambulance arrived and they rushed him to the hospital.

I remember the flashing lights, the blaring sirens, the beeping of the various machines as they tried to find his heartbeat.

I remember being held back by security while I screamed after the stretcher as they carried him away to the back.

The only thing I didn't remember was how long I waited. Each minute felt like an hour, and each hour felt like a year. I'd already paced the entire waiting room more times than I could count, and had cried twice as much as I had paced. It never occurred to me to call Zack and Rian, or if it would have made a difference even if I had. All I could do was think about what would happen if he was gone. Could I bare to live without him? It had crushed me when Rian had left, and he had only quit the band. We still talked, we were still friends. I couldn't even handle the thought of what it would mean if when someone finally came out to talk to me, they would tell me they hadn't been able to revive him...

That Jack was dead.

I choked back a sob, a hiccup of pain escaping my lips. I used the back of my hand to wipe away fresh tears.

How could he do this to me?

How could he just give up like this?

I gasped when the reality of why he had asked me out tonight hit me, the horrible truth burning like an angry fire scorching through my veins. When he had said goodbye, he had meant it. I put my head in my hands and allowed heavy sobs to shake my body. For the first time in years I felt weak and small again, the familiarity of the situation seemed to cut me like a knife, straight to the heart. Was it my fault? Did I do something that made Jack want to do this? Was I not a good enough friend? I should have been there. I should have held his hand, begged him not to do this because I loved him- his family and friends love him. Maybe if I had asked him if something was wrong, then he would have talked to me, and he'd still be here.

It was all my fault.. again.

"Are you here for Mr. Jack Barakat?"

A women in the standard white coat, with a tiny gold name tag labeled 'Dr. Mitchell', was standing just outside the two large double doors that lead to the heart of the hospital where they kept all the patients. I jumped up from my seat, nodding anxiously. "Yes, I'm here for Jack. Is he alright? Where is he? Is he... did you..." I couldn't bring myself to say the words. For some reason, it felt like if I didn't say them, then there was no way they could come true.

She smiled sadly. "Come with me."

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**A/N: Just like always, I hope you all enjoy the chapter and continue to read and review!**

**I truly appreciate every, and all the support I receive.  
**

**P.S. Merrikat - Since you aren't commenting from a FF account, I can't reply to you directly, but I just wanted to thank you for all of your reviews on all of the chapters. It really honestly drives me to write knowing that what I'm doing is actually worth while for someone else, so there will be no need to protest, Haha. Just keep on giving me such wonderful feedback, and I promise I'll keep on updating. Though, I doubt the boys will ever have read this. But it would be quite interesting! **

**Especially if they found out who I was in person.. talk about awkward? Haha**


	2. Paper Hearts

_"Are you here for Mr. Jack Barakat?"_

_A women in the standard white coat, with a tiny gold name tag labeled 'Dr. Mitchell', was standing just outside the two large double doors that lead to the heart of the hospital where they kept all the patients. I jumped up from my seat, nodding anxiously. "Yes, I'm here for Jack. Is he alright? Where is he? Is he... did you..." I couldn't bring myself to say the words. For some reason, it felt like if I didn't say them, then there was no way they could come true._

_She smiled sadly. "Come with me."

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_

**Chapter One - Alex's Point of View**

She lead my through the white double doors at an agonizingly slow pace.

All I wanted to do was throw her out of the way and take off down the long hallway, screaming at anyone who was in my way until I got to wherever Jack was so I could see that he was okay. Because he _had_ to be okay. I tried to think about what it would mean if he wasn't, but my mind when blank - shut down as if it refused to even think about such a possibility. We stopped just outside a door which held a small little name plate titled "ICU" and a sick shiver of fear crawled up my spine. Dr. Mitchell stared at me intently for a moment before she started to speak.

Her voice made me feel weak and lightheaded.

"Now, it is my job to warn you about Jack's condition before you are allowed to go inside and see him."

She paused. I held my breath.

"We did manage to revive him and pump his stomach in time," I let out the breath that I had been holding, falling heavily against the wall beside me as I felt that desperate relief settle upon me. "But," She frowned. "That is as far as the good news goes, as of now." I swallowed the lump of pain that had risen in my chest and managed to force out, in a shaky voice, "What's wrong with him?" Dr. Mitchell smiled sadly, trying to comfort me with the hand she had rested on my shoulder, but it was no use. Her eyes were a deep, sensitive, chocolate brown - the same colour as Jack's. "He's in a coma. I'm sorry. We can't tell for sure right now whether he will come out of it in a few days, or whether it will be a few weeks. And... I think we also need to consider the option that Jack might not recover from this at all."

I never fully understood what people were talking about when they said that someone 'broke their heart'. I often sat and contemplated how a muscle that pumps blood could break, and how these people must say these things without truly realizing what exactly it was they were claiming. Yet, here I stood; my heart breaking. And I could feel it - the distinct ripping sensation in my chest, the burning pain that seemed to radiate from the tear and burn its way through my veins, taking the oxygen from my lungs so that the room began to do little circles around me. I grasped at the cool concrete wall, trying to hold onto reality, onto something real. Because this must be a dream.

This must be some huge, awful nightmare.

"I want to wake up now," I begged, my voice only a broken whisper.

I felt something squeeze my should, a voice that was sympathetic, "I'm afraid that this isn't a dream."

It wasn't long before I had regained enough of my grip on reality to walk the few steps into the Intensive Care Unit and sit down in the chair that had been pulled up to the side of Jack's bed, as close as you could get without interfering with the numerous machines that surrounded him. I couldn't believe it was him. Endless tubes seemed to be running from different machines that surrounded his bed; the steady drip of the IV, the rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor, and the gentle swoosh of the respiratory machine that fed oxygen to the mask covering the majority of Jack's face. He was pale. So ghostly white that he looked like a corpse lying on the blank white sheets of the hospital bed. I don't know how long I spent watching his chest rise and fall before I could believe that he was still alive. Hesitantly, my hands shaking, I reached out and held his hand in both of mine.

They weren't much warmer than when I had found him in the bathroom.

And even that seemed like it had been years ago.

I began to shake.

More than anything I wanted to be next to him on another bed, joining him in a permanent state of unconsciousness. I didn't want to _feel_ anything anymore. All of this pain, all of this hurt, all of this misery and heartache - I wanted it all gone. I wanted to lie down, close my eyes, and never open them again. I wanted to feel numb. I wanted to feel nothing. But things don't work like that; they've never worked like that. So I did the only thing I could do, and I cried. I cried because I felt like someone had walked up and kicked my world out from under me. I cried because I couldn't bare the thought of never hearing his voice again. I cried because I imagined what it would be like to never laugh with him again. And I cried because Jack had left me. Alone, scared, and broken, he had left me to face this world alone - this world that didn't seem worth living without him.

I don't know how long I sat there holding his hand and crying before people started to show up.

I remember standing off to the side as Jack's mom ran in and fell to her knees at his bedside, her sobs of anguish left scars in my mind that I would never be able to forget. For the first time since I'd known him, I watched Jack's dad cry as he tried to comfort his wife despite his own grief. Rian, Zack, Matt, Evan, Danny, Jeff, Lisa, His brother and sister... I sat and watched all of our friends and family come in and beg Jack, why?

Why had you done this?

"Alex, I think you need to come home."

Too tired to argue and too upset to try and fight any longer, I agreed and Lisa drove me home. Alone in my bed I couldn't help but to let my thoughts consume me. What was I going to do tomorrow? Could I get up, get dressed, and continue to live like nothing had happened? Is that what Jack would of wanted me to do? Bitterness tainted with misery pounded viciously through my heart. How could he expect me to do that? How could he have thought for even a moment that my life could ever be the same without him in it? The anger faded as quickly as it had come, and its absence left me feeling hollow and blank.

And as I slowly let my mind drift towards sleep, I kept asking myself...

Why?

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**A/N: Just like always, I hope you all enjoy the chapter and continue to read and review!**

**I truly appreciate every, and all the support I receive.  
**

**P.S. Merrikat - I was thinking of making a series of smutty/fluffy one shots kind of like the one already on my page, only for All Time Low! We'll see what happens with that. And I'm glad you like my chapters, it honestly does mean so much. It makes me all warm and flail-y on the inside. :3**

**Also, I'm a girl. Haha, so no worries in offending.  
**


	3. Important AN

_"Why did you not tell me you started posting to All Time Boners? I would have added you as a friend a LONG time ago! Hahaha and why did you change the title of the story? _

_ Upload the rest of the chapters, everyone seems to love it on there! I told you they would:)"_

**Merrikat95**

I have not posted my story on All Time Low Boners, and it upsets me greatly that someone would. If you could please send me a link to the story that would be wonderful. Until such time as the person removes the story, I probably will not update on here. I have more chapters to post but I won't be posting them if I know someone out there is going to steal and take credit for something I work so hard to create.

Thanks.

- TheAllTimeLow


	4. Hide the Cracks

_Too tired to argue and too upset to try and fight any longer, I agreed and Lisa drove me home. Alone in my bed I couldn't help but to let my thoughts consume me. What was I going to do tomorrow? Could I get up, get dressed, and continue to live like nothing had happened? Is that what Jack would of wanted me to do? Bitterness tainted with misery pounded viciously through my heart. How could he expect me to do that? How could he have thought for even a moment that my life could ever be the same without him in it? The anger faded as quickly as it had come, and its absence left me feeling hollow and blank._

_And as I slowly let my mind drift towards sleep, I kept asking myself..._

_Why?_

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**Chapter Three** - _Alex's Point of View_

I woke up the next day feeling dazed and confused.

There was an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't quite place, and I couldn't remember why my eyes felt sore, or why my head was pounding so steadily against the bright stream of sunshine pouring in through the open window of my bedroom. I ran my fingers across the cool fabric of my sheets and waited for my head to clear. And as the fuzziness of sleep slowly faded the memories slowly began to creep back into my mind. The goodbye, the broken mirror, the pill bottle, the ambulance... Jack lying motionless on the hospital bed. My eyes hurt because I had stopped crying only long enough to drift into a restless sleep. My head pounded with a headache from endless sobbing. And the feeling in the pit of my stomach -which was now so obvious I wished I hadn't remembered anything- was the sickening worry that hadn't left me since I sat in my driveway contemplating whether or not to go back.

What if I hadn't gone back?

What if I had decided that I was merely overreacting that night?

I shuddered at the thought.

"Alex?" there was a soft knock at my door and Rian stuck his head out from around the corner. "Are you awake?"

"No, I'm not. I'm asleep. Now leave my alone."

I listened as he chuckled once and his footsteps sounded clearly across the carpet in the dead silence of the room. The bed sunk a little on the side that I wasn't curled up on and he sighed. "Listen, I know you probably don't want to talk to anyone right now, but we're really worried about you, Man. You've been in bed for almost four days and..." His voice trailed off in my head. Four days? I had been in bed for four days? How could that be possible when it felt like I had barely gotten any sleep at all? "... But like I said, we're just concerned." I sat up abruptly, pushing the covers off me with more force than was necessary. Suddenly, and irrationally, I felt angry. "Hey, you said it yourself - I don't want to talk to anybody right now. You guys don't have to worry about me because I'm fine," I snapped. "I'm a big boy and I can handle myself. There are more important things to be worrying about right now then me anyways, so just leave me alone, okay?"

Rian's face crumpled in pain. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. I'll see you around."

He got up from the bed and I looked down at my lap guiltily. It wasn't fair for me to take out my emotions on Rian, especially when all he was doing was trying to make me feel better. I had once let my ego stop me from doing the right thing and I wasn't about to let it happen again. "Rian, wait! I'm sorry. Really, I am. I'm just... so emotionally drained right now, and I was taking everything out on you. You totally didn't deserve it and I'm sorry." He sighed, sitting back down on the bed. "It's alright. We've all got a lot going on right now. It's understandable."

"I guess it is," I mumbled, fiddling absently with my blanket. It felt wrong to try and justify blowing up at Rian, but I wasn't about to argue further when he was trying to make amends. "Anyways, I need to go out and get groceries, so I'm going to go. I was wondering... uhm, if you wanted, I could drop you off at the hospital. " I looked up at him. "Only if you want to though."

"I want to."

A little while later I was back sitting at the side of Jack's bed. The warmth had come back into his hands and he wasn't as pale as he had been, but his condition was still critical. The machines for his life support still buzzed around him, causing a looming sense of dread to wash over me. It felt like each beep was just another tick to a clock that was counting down the time I had left with him. On my way into the unit I had talked to Dr. Mitchell and she had updated me on what had happened in the past few days. They had run an EEG and MRI as they feared there may be an underlying issue. Her words whirled around in my head: "_Generally, coma patients of alcohol and substance overdoses don't experience persistent comas, and will usually regain at least some form of awareness in the first forty-eight hours. This leads us to believe that there may be neurological damage. We're still waiting for the analysis of the tests, and even then, there's no way for us to tell for sure how long he may remain like this. Only time will tell._"

Only time will tell.

I bit my lip, making small circles on Jack's hand with my thumb. I hadn't let it go since I'd arrived and I hoped that somehow he would be able to feel it, and he would know that I was still with them - still by his side and hoping to see his beautiful smile again. I wondered how long it would be. Would he wake up tomorrow? A week from now? A month? Would he ever wake up? Would I ever hear his voice again? His laugh? Thinking about it made my chest ache, but I couldn't not think about it either. It felt like if I forced myself not to think about it then it would be like forcing myself to forget Jack.

And I couldn't do that.

I wouldn't do that.

A soft knock at the door made me jump and an unfamiliar nurse walked in, a small, reassuring smile on her face. "Hi, I'm Kara. I'm one of the nurses who helps to look after Jack. I'm just here to move him around so his muscles won't start to deteriorate from being in one position for too long. You can stay if you'd like." I smiled politely, placing Jack's hand back at his side before standing up. "No, thanks, it's alright. I think it's about time I left anyways. Will you call if anything changes?" She smiled as she started to begin her work and I headed for the door. "Of course we will. Have a good day." I thanked her and left the unit with only one thought on my mind: How was I supposed to have a good day when my best friend was lying in the hospital dying?

When I arrived back at the house I felt lost.

Usually I would hang out all day with Jack, or be touring with the band, hanging out with our fans, or in clubs with the crew. Now, I didn't know what to do. I felt small and alone. Broken and lost. Hurt and useless. Baz whined at my feet, pawing impatiently at my leg as he stared up at me with his big, sad eyes. "I know your worried, too, aren't you? Jack hasn't been around to cuddle you." I picked him up in my arms and he licked my face. "With my luck, you've probably been licking your ass." Baz barked once and I couldn't help but to laugh. "I figured as much." I set him back down and wandered aimlessly around the house before I ended up downstairs in the basement, guitar in hand. In the past I had dealt with things by writing songs, so why not do the same this time? I quickly found a piece of paper and a pen and got to work. My heart and soul became the ink and my fingers became the experts at telling the song of my heart as I began to sort out the perfect chords. The words began to pour out of me, one after the other, like I had opened some sort of flood gate. By the time I had wrote the first chorus the page was stained with tears that I hadn't bothered to hold back or wipe away.

I re-read what I had written.

"Fucking shit. I can't do anything right. I can't even write a song right anymore!"

Filled with anger and despair, I tore desperately at the paper, ripping it to shreds with my shaking fingers. My head fell heavily into my hands and I stared at the fragments of paper that had fallen at my feet. My world was falling apart and I knew it. I just didn't know how to stop it. How could I go on? What could I do? I had lost my band, my music, and my best friends all in such a short time. What did I have left? What did I have worth fighting for? Wiping away the tears that clung to my cheeks, I decided that sleep was the best option.

I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to have to feel, either.

Sleep was the best option.

And so, I slept.

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**A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**And thank you so much to Merrikat for letting me know about the plagiarism issue on ATB! It has been sorted out, and that is why this chapter is up. It's flattering that someone would find my work good enough to copy, though I'm happy that things have been made right, and I hope it won't happen again in the future. I've joined LJ as TheAllTimeLow, so hopefully when I get some ideas I'll be posting over there! This story shall continue on here, and I hope you all enjoy it!**

**I also hope to get the next chapter up a lot sooner than this one, so keep a look out!**


	5. Flicker of Hope

_I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to have to feel, either._

_Sleep was the best option._

_And so, I slept._

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**Chapter Four** - _Alex's Point of View  
_

I woke up the next morning still feeling the effects of endless days of crying. My head pounded every few seconds to the point where I had timed the painful pulsing in my temple to an exact pace. One, two, three, boom. One, two, three, boom. Not long ago someone could have told me to just take a pill and I would have done it without a second of hesitation for relief. But not now. No, now whenever I held the cool plastic bottle in my hand I couldn't think of anything but the fear, and the hurt, and the hopelessness that must have been running through Jack's head when he decided to toss the whole bottle back.

And I wondered briefly how long it would hurt for. How long would each thought of that night continue to make me flinch, make my heart hurt? How long would I blame myself? How long would it take to stop feeling so angry at myself and so broken? Would I ever be whole again? I threw the covers off and sat up. "What made me whole?" I wondered aloud, looking around my room as if the off-white walls would give me the answers I was searching for. "All Time Low, music, my friends," _everything I had lost_.

"So get it back."

The idea hit me with so much force that I sat there in a daze. It was so obvious. So stupidly, insanely, brilliant, that I couldn't believe this was the first time I had thought it. Of course all I had to do was get back what I had lost. Then I would be whole again. More tears formed in my eyes and I brushed them away hurriedly. No more crying; there was no more room for crying. Not now. My life had been turned upside down and it was time for me to make it right again.

"RIAN!" I jumped up, the same clothes that I had been wearing for the past three days made a tiny breeze that smelt like stale three-day-old man-sweat. "Rian, for fuck sakes! Get up here! Uhm... The Foo Fighters are on the phone and they want you to drum tech. for them!" I heard the panicked thumps of feet on carpet as Rian came running up the stairs and burst into my room. The door shuddered and banged loudly as it made contact with the wall and I momentarily wondered if it would fall off its hinges. "GIVE ME THE PHONE, ALEX! GIVE ME THE PHONE!" I guess it had never occurred to him that I wasn't holding a phone, but I had his face between my hands and was kissing him before he had the time to consider it.

"Alex?" his voice was soft, flustered, and confused when I pulled away and hugged him tightly. "Hey, Man, are you okay? What's going on with you?" It took me a while to answer, but when I did, I felt better than I had since I'd found out Jack was in a coma.

"More okay than I've been in a long time."

The next few hours I spent on my bed talking to Rian about the revelation I had had and breaking the unfortunate news that I had been lying about The Foo Fighters. He seemed genuinely upset for a while and it made me feel like an ass for using that to get his attention. It didn't take long before he must of noticed my mood change because he assured me that he would be okay and not to worry about it. We stayed there, talking, for what seemed like ages while I let loose everything on my mind like word vomit. Rian just watched me for the most part. Every now and then he'd nod in acknowledgement or make random one syllable noises of agreement. So when I had finally told him the plan behind my amazing revelation, I was surprised when he continued to sit there in silence.

We stared at each other for a few more moments before he sighed.

The look on his face was condescending.

"Look, Alex..." He was measuring his words carefully. "That sounds like a fantastic idea - don't get me wrong. But realistically? Do you honestly think we can just call up Zack and the guys and just get the band back together? Just plan an All Time Low reunion tour and have everything suddenly be all better again? It's a little... well, it's a little bit hard to believe that things could just be fixed that easily." Rian ran a hand through his non-existent hair and studied me carefully. I tried to keep my expression even but I knew my eyes were betraying the feelings of panic making my pulse pound. I knew that if he didn't agree to help me with this than there was no way it was ever going to happen. Finally, when it felt like my head would explode from the anticipation, he exhaled loudly. "Alright. I'll help you. I never wanted to give up All Time Low. Even the day I walked off the bus I wanted to turn around and get right back on." He laughed sadly. "You know, it doesn't even matter anymore - how a lot of people who like our band don't know who I am. It really doesn't. I mean you should have seen all the replies I got on Twitter from the people who _do_ know me, who _do_ care. I should never have walked out on them. And even when I did they continued to stand right by my side." A tiny hiccup shook his body as his head dropped into his hand. "I never should of gave up on you guys, and I definitely shouldn't have gave up on them."

And that was it.

That was the moment when a tiny flicker of light shone through the vast darkness of despair that had washed over my life, and pulled me out of the hopelessness I had been drowning in.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading, as always! Reviews are continuously appreciated and thoroughly loved.**

**Sorry this has taken so long to be updated. I was in a writers rut and had no idea where I wanted it to go, or how I wanted it to get there. Now I have an idea and I'm hoping this creative block will disappear.**

**Much, much Love!**


	6. Heartbeat

_And that was it._

_That was the moment when a tiny flicker of light shone through the vast darkness of despair that had washed over my life, and pulled me out of the hopelessness I had been drowning in._

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**Chapter Five** - _Alex's POV_

"Hey, Jack! Guess what, man? We're getting All Time Low back together. We're going to be a band again. Isn't that fucking sweet? So you see... you have to wake up now. Jack?"

It was only hours since Rian had agreed to help me with The Tour, and even less since we had finished making calls and convincing people that this plan was a good plan. None of them had brought up the fact that it wouldn't be a reunion tour if Jack wasn't there. Maybe it was the way my voice oozed with almost naive resolve at the blind faith I had that Jack would wake up from his coma in time to be there. I mean, he couldn't miss it. He just couldn't. Impossible, unfathomable, absolutely absurd. He was a part of All Time low, so he would be there. No question about it.

Not until later would I realize I was experiencing an ignorance only children under the age of five get to enjoy.

Kara came in after a while and I watched her move Jack's limbs around - stretching his dormant muscles so that they would not deteriorate as he lied there unable to move them himself. She took his pulse and a few other readings from the machines, scribbling her findings quickly on the clipboard she was holding, wished me a good day, and then left. I turned my attention back to Jack. They hadn't updated me in too much detail since the last time I had asked. They were still waiting for the results of his tests, but the majority of the tubes had been removed and they had been contemplating moving him out of the IC unit. All that remained was his IV and life support. Three days had passed since I found him, yet it felt like months.

How could it be that only three nights ago we were sitting in a movie theatre together? Hugging, smiling, being friends? How could things change so drastically, so fast? It terrified me. It felt like the world was resting on the head of a needle and the slightest thing could send us all toppling over to our deaths. I wondered if anyone else had yet realized how fragile life was and had my answer almost immediately.

Of course not.

Most will never fully appreciate what they have until they've been placed in a situation that threatens to take it away. You ask a cancer survivor the value of life and you will get a passionate answer. Because they know what it's like to be so close to falling off that needle. They know what it's like to question whether or not there will be a tomorrow, instead of the majority of the world. Most of us expect tomorrow. We don't go to sleep wondering whether we will wake up. We don't get dressed in the morning and smile at the fact that we just woke up from a warm bed and that we have clothes to even put on. Instead, we look in our closets and think of all the things we want but don't have. We open a fridge full of food and complain that there's nothing to eat.

I took Jack's hand in my own and squeezed it. "If you wake up... I promise I'll never take anything for granted ever again. And even if you don't..." my voice trailed off and I choked on a sob. I couldn't bear the thought of him not waking up. It was too much. My heart gave a nervous thump and I put Jack's hand on my chest. "You feel that, man? I know I never told you this - fuck, I never even realized it myself until now, but it beats for you. It's always beat for you. Always. " My eyes searched his face for a few moments while I desperately waited for a sign, any sign, that he could hear me; that he knew how much I cared for him.

But nothing.

I placed his hand back on the bed feeling a little less certain of myself.

~.*.*.~

"When should we announce The Tour to the kids?"

Rian, Zack, and I were sitting in the tour bus, trying to work things out as best as we could in a place we thought would help motivate us. Rian shook his head slowly while he fingered through what seemed like endless sheets of assorted paperwork. He had taken it upon himself to work out the finer, more technical details of my grand plan and the stress of it all was starting to show on his face. This was actually the first time I had seen him that he wasn't on the phone trying to arrange last minute booking or contacting our old management. I knew he was under a lot of strain, but I don't think I truly appreciated it. All I could think of was the excitement of the "All Time Low Reunion Tour!" announcement.

"I think we should wait until everything as far as booking venues, making sure we have crew, and all of those vital details are set in stone before we announce anything. The worst thing that could happen is we tell everyone there's a tour, and then it doesn't happen. That would just be really shitty for everyone." I knew Rian was thinking practically, but my brain was rejecting all sense he was making. Zack was nodding in agreement, and I should have been too. However, the filter between the logical sense of my brain and the part that just wanted to start driving and playing and being a band again, seemed to be temporarily switched off. "So how long is it going to be? I don't get why we can't just tell them. With all the hype behind it, venues will be asking to book _us_! Not the other way around. We're All Time Low! I mean, it can't be that hard to put together a tour."

Have you ever experienced a moment when, you say something, and then as soon as the words are out of your mouth, you know you shouldn't have said them? And you wish you could just pluck them out of the air and stuff them back inside your idiot mouth. Well, I had just thrown myself into one of those moments and suddenly my filter wasn't broken anymore because the logical part of me was saying, _nice move, Asshole_.

Rian's jaw had locked and his face was contorted with frustration and anger.

"Yes, Alex," he hissed through clenched teeth. "It. is. fucking. hard. It is so hard, you cannot even begin to imagine - and not like you would anyways, because all you seem to be capable of thinking about right now is your own damn feelings. I understand that you think us going on this tour will magically bring Jack back, but guess what? You need to wake up and face reality, Alex! Just because there is an All Time Low tour doesn't mean he will be there!" I tried to speak, but he cut harshly into the pathetic defense I had prepared for myself. "No! Jack is in a coma. Nothing we do can bring him back, and we need to start accepting the idea that he may not even come back."

I swallowed the lump that had grown heavy in my throat and hiccuped a sob.

Rian sighed as he got up to leave. "We can work on this again later. I'm tired. So tired."

Zack followed soon after and I was left alone in the silence of the bus. And even though not a single sound filled the empty space, Rian's voice kept repeating over and over in my mind. _Jack is in a coma. Nothing we do can bring him back, and we need to start accepting the idea that he may not even come back._

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**A/N: Thanks for reading, as always! Reviews are continuously appreciated and thoroughly loved.**

**Sorry this has taken so long to be updated. I say this every time, but I get busy and I usually lack motivation and creativity. I'm trying though, and slow but surely, still bringing you updates.**

**Much, much Love!**


	7. Daydream Away

_Zack followed soon after and I was left alone in the silence of the bus. And even though not a single sound filled the empty space, Rian's voice kept repeating over and over in my mind. Jack is in a coma. Nothing we do can bring him back, and we need to start accepting the idea that he may not even come back._

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

I sat in the back lounge in silence while his words hung in the air around me. He was right, of course, and as that thought finalized itself in my mind my entire illusion of sanity collapsed. The composure I thought I had had for the last three days came crashing down around me and for whatever reason I decided being as close to anything to do with Jack as fast as I possibly could was the solution. In three strides I had made my way across the bus, thrown back the black curtain, and hurled myself into Jack's bunk.

The small space still held some of the things that Jack took on tour, but had never taken off the bus, and the smell of his body wash clung faintly to the sheets. I tucked myself under the covers and buried my face in the fabric, inhaling deeply. It took me a moment before I realized I was crying. Everything about his bunk was so normal to me I couldn't believe how fucked up everything actually was. I closed my eyes against the coolness of his pillow and imagined Jack laying next me, his arm around my waist as he held me close against his chest. He would kiss my neck and rest his forehead in the crook of my neck so I could feel him smile as I pushed back into his touch. And we'd stay like that for as long as time could allow, because where we were in my head, our closeness held no boundaries.

No coma's, no broken up bands, no hurt, or heartbreak, or suicide attempts.

Just Jack and I forever.

I shifted myself on the bed and the sudden friction had me moaning unexpectedly. How long had it been? With rushed hands I tore off my shirt, unbuttoned my jeans, and hooked my thumbs around both them and my boxers, imagining Jack's hands pulling them down my legs. Shaking hands tossed them beside me and I made sure the curtain was fully closed before laying back with my eyes shut. I brought my hands up to my collarbones and trailed them down my chest the way Jack used to, forcing my fingers to move agonizingly slow; teasing. I traced little circles on my hips before quickly running my palms hard against the tops of my thighs. I dug my fingernails into the sensitive flesh on the inside of my legs and a soft moan escaped my lips.

And then Jack was there; smiling the way he did when he knew he was teasing me.

I swore under my breath, letting my imagination take over, as I pictured him trailing kisses down to my ankle and brushing the head of my erection on his way to lean over me. His lips touched softly on my neck and he held my face in his hands before running them roughly through my hair. I moaned and thrust my hips forward. He smiled against my neck, grazing his teeth where he knew I liked it.

Fuck.

Jack caught my lips in his own and I pictured myself wrapping my arms strongly around his shoulders, pulling him hard against my body. The kiss deepened as my need grew and Jack took one hand from my hair to wrap it tightly around the base of my cock. I jerked forward into his palm -my palm- pushing my head back hard into the pillow as arousal fogged my senses. His eyes never left mine while he ran his hand up and down my length once and reached between my legs to stroke my balls.

My body shook.

"Fuck, Jack..." I murmured. "The things you do to me."

I thought back to that first night on stage and afterwards in the hotel room. It seemed like years and years ago, but I knew it had only been a matter of months. I remembered the flush of Jack's cheeks when he was embarrassed - how it made his eyes crinkle in the corners and his lips curl up ever so slightly. What it felt like to catch his eye in a room full of people and have him smile at me, knowing, if nothing else, that we would always be best friends. Or how he would twirl his hair in his fingers whenever he was nervous.

A lump had been forming in my throat and I swallowed it.

Shit, I loved that man.

I stroked myself once, and then again, until I gave up all desire to be teased and began pushing myself frantically towards my release. My head cleared temporarily of all hurt and all pain, until all I could do was feel the pleasure of my fast approaching orgasm. I dug my teeth into the sheets to stifle my moans; gagging myself. Jack's smell on the fabric flooded my senses and merged together with the feel of my thrusts, and it was easy to imagine it was his hand driving me to the edge.

_"Come for me, Alex..."_

I cried out as I came in several waves, my back arching with each pulse of my orgasm as tiny beads of sweat tickled down my spine. I collapsed into the bunk and let my body come down and sink into exhaustion. It didn't take long for my euphoria to subside and with its absence came the intense grief I had only managed to delay temporarily. How cruel life could be, how fragile and unpredictable. I pulled my boxers on and rolled the dirty sheet up into a ball and put it in the corner of the bunk with my discarded clothes, making a mental note of doing laundry later.

For now, all I wanted to do was sleep.

With my legs pulled up firmly tucked into my chest, I fell asleep and dreamed of Jack.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks so much to those people who have left reviews for me since my last update, hopefully a little smut will make up for my sporadic updates. It always makes me smile when I see the notifications in my e-mail and never fails to brighten my day. The idea that people like my writing still astounds me, but I appreciate your feedback with all my heart.**

**And as always, thanks Merrikat95 for making me feel special. I saw the post on tumblr after I read your review, and I actually squealed a tiny bit. :3**


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